


Hide (and build a new reality)

by ForbiddenToast



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 01:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10798713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForbiddenToast/pseuds/ForbiddenToast
Summary: He knows they can’t stay forever, that they have a show in four days and then it’s off to England to do it all over again…but part of him wants to hang onto this. The surety that comes with hiding in a hotel room with his boyfriend at 10am and just simply existing.There’s nobody to judge him here, no expectation to be Perfect Patrick or face the world.





	Hide (and build a new reality)

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while hasn't it? But yeah, originally this was meant to be set just before the hiatus but then I decided to change it to the week fob spent in Ireland during the Bloom tour for some unknown reason i'm not sure if this works better or not but it is what it is.

Patrick wonders idly, while staring at the cracked tile ceiling, whether his younger self could have ever imagined himself in this situation at some point in the future; where he’s naked in a hotel bed next to a college dropout somewhere in Ireland. Hiding away from his responsibilities that come with being in a successful band with said college dropout and ignoring the gnawing feeling in his stomach.

Probably not, he thinks. His younger self probably imagined himself happy, successful and going to a party every other night. Not holed up in some hotel room because he can’t handle it anymore.

Quickly, as if to hide himself from the disapproving scrutiny of the ceiling, Patrick buries his face into the warm neck that feels like home and safety and comfort and hates himself for putting them in this position. Where Pete’ll insist on taking the fall for this freak-out and let the tabloids and hungry journalists claw at his past further.

Where Pete will act like this was all him, not Patrick.

And at this rate, judging by the money left in their wallets, they have five days left.  

And then it’s back to reality and Patrick _hates it._

\--

_He first notices the feeling when they land in Ireland, the land of green and stereotypical flat caps (that Pete will no doubt buy later). It feels like ice dripping into his blood slowly, taking its sweet, sweet time to web itself through his network of veins and arteries until it reaches his lungs. His heart. His brain._

_The tell-tell tightness that sickly coils itself around his chest, shaky fingertips and the haziness in his concentration give it away._

It’s not a new feeling – it’s something Patrick’s always dealt with, even before the hiatus, when his younger self didn’t realise that the itch underneath his skin wasn’t normal. Nor was the he feeling of worthlessness that followed it.

Yes, he’d know his self-esteem wasn’t perfect but he hadn’t known that would leak into other things…create other problems.

Pete had helped somewhat with soft conversations when Patrick felt like high-tailing it out of the band, of cutting all ties he ever had and just escaping. Linda had come second (after some convincing on Pete’s part), with her soothing voice and pamphlets and the certificate hung above her desk.

He felt a little less itchy, a little more in control and becoming irritated at simple things seemed to be a thing of the past.

_But as they drive into Belfast he feels it return, with sharp claws and vengeful words and he knows it’s a problem…but he’ll ignore it. It’ll go away eventually._

_Patrick sees his reflection in the bus window, knowing he’s kidding himself, it isn’t going to go away. Because even the new lights of a new city aren’t enough to make him feel anything other than static at his fingertips that are currently picking at the flesh on his thumb until it turns as red as the graffiti lining the back of the shops._

_He doesn’t go back to the hotel they’re scheduled to stay in that night. Instead walks aimlessly along the streets for a couple of hours, until he reaches a Travel Lodge near a train station, checks in and texts Pete with directions and a simple ‘need you’._

_\--_

“You awake?”

It’s almost whispered, like Pete doesn’t want to disturb him and it makes Patrick’s heart seize a bit – even after he’s spoilt their week off and forced Pete to stay he’s still understanding and knows that really, Patrick doesn’t want to be awake.

Patrick nods, nose bumping along Pete’s neck and he almost smiles. Almost.

Pete’s also running a warm hand up and down his back as he talks, and for the first time in two days he feels content which is a win.  There’s also a kiss dropped into his hair as Patrick braces himself for the question he’s been waiting for during their two days here.

“Can,” Pete pauses, obviously wanting to word this right, “is today an okay day to go back?”

The reaction is immediate; Patrick stiffens along Pete’s side and Pete is quick to shush him. “We don’t even have to go anywhere, just back to the hotel with our stuff. I can order a taxi or whatever – or – or we could go on one of those bus tours you talked about. See the murals and stuff…maybe it’ll distract your brain for a while?”

Pete’s trying, he really is. And Patrick knows how he feels. He’s given variations of that question to Pete before and nothing will ever make it sound right, no matter how long he takes to word it.

He knows they can’t stay forever though, that they have a show in four days and then it’s off to England to do it all over again…but part of him wants to hang onto this. The surety that comes with hiding in a hotel room with his boyfriend at 10am and just simply existing.

There’s nobody to judge him here, no expectation to be Perfect Patrick or face the world.

Andy and Joe are probably worried too, after all Patrick vanished after they arrived and Pete five hours later – even if Pete’s probably text them and told them where they are.

Pete’s waiting patiently though, hand still rubbing up and down his back and that small act gives him the motivation to nod and sit up. To finally meet Pete’s worried gaze.

“Y-yeah,” he rasps, wiping at his eyes to stop them from running. “everyone’s staying at the Hilton, right?”  

 

It’s a slow process after that, Patrick showers and gets dressed, pointedly ignoring his haggard reflection in the mirror. He then grabs the backpack he had with him, and Pete’s hand before reaching for the door handle – still in a daze, still a bit itchy and numb, but feeling more grounded after moving.

He stops however whenever he unlocks the door, giving a glance back at the hotel bed and part of him screams to go back. To close the door and ignore reality for four more days. But then, as if Pete’s reading his mind, the older man squeezes his hand to encourage him.

“You’ve got this,” Pete says and even though he really doesn’t, Patrick opens the door and takes a deep breath. He can do this. He can do this.

Patrick hates it, but he can do this as long as Pete holds his hand until they reach the next small gap in reality to seek refuge in. The next hotel room. 


End file.
